Broken Hearts
by Bianca Inkwell
Summary: The burning of Opera Populaire has left Eric in a pit of dispair. There seems to be no escape until a stange vistor appears. How did she get there? Why does she protect the brown paper wrapped package with her life? Find out! Bwahahaha
1. Prolouge

Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom of the Opera

I hope you enjoy this story. I kind of played with the idea then I got bored during field day. It was really cold that day and my fingers were nearly frozen numb but this was the result and it's my best story yet. I already have the second part written and will be typing it soon.

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My lungs burned but I continued up the stairs. One after another after another, the package clutched to my chest. My whole body screamed in protest as I sped up hearing my pursuer behind me. I rounded a corner and at last the door lay before me. I collapsed onto the large wooden door and staggered out into the cold crisp autumn night. I stumbled for a moment my chest heaving, stuggling to pull air into my starving lungs. A strong gust of wind blew by and the door slammed with a loud and heavy thud. I jumped and whirled at the sound, hugging the package even tighter (too tight 'cause I think I pressed something and it whirred mechanically). I stood there, bent over with a hand on my knee as my mind hunted for a plan. Too late. The door slammed open. I shot up, my eyes narrowing. He stood there gasping for breath. The chilly wind tugged at the remaining hair on his bald headand darkening the already ruddy color on his cheeks. The big man grinned triumphantly bearing his teeth. Then he slowly raised the gun to my height.

"No…escaping…now…lass," He puffed, his fat gut jiggling with every breath. "Time fer…ye to give…give it up."He clutched his chest

"No!" I shouted standing my ground."I'm not doin' anything you say. Not until i know what's goin' on!" I started to sneak backwards, clenching my teeth to keep them from clacking together. His grip tightened on the gun.

" Don't even think about it, lass," He ordered his breath slowing. " It wouldn' be the firs' time I shotsome American thief." He chuckled maliciously. "But ye already know that. Don' ye" He sneered making it more of a statement than a question. My eyes burned as tears crept out.

"Dad," I gasped quietly before gritting my teeth. Again he grinned

" So ye didn' know. Well…" He shrugged "Now ye do." That's when I began to sprint away with only one thought in my mind: I can't let him get away with this. I need to do something. He. Can't. Win.I repeated the last bit over and over to myself, faster and faster, like the beeping from the package. I heard gunshots and pain shot through my left arm. I screamed out my fear and pain… Then jumped off the roof,twisting in the air sonothing would happen to the package whenever I hit the…I heard one final long tone from the package, then silence.

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What do you think? I really want to know! Please review! PLEASE! Please let me know if I should keep writing or stop wasting my time. I don't want much just a good or bad. Thank you. 


	2. Erik's Discovery

Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom of the Opera

Yea! I finally got to write this up! Though the only reason I did is because I'm sick. (Everyone say "aw" with me. 1…2…3…Awwwwww.) My stomach hurts but on the bright side: NO SCHOOL! WooHoo! D. Unfortunately that means a lot of homework tomorrow. :'-( Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. I based it off the movie version but I will be reading the book version soon…I hope. Have fun!

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_Under the starlight I stared, ashamed, at the mask, the cover that hid the hate deceit…and the pain. Half a year had almost pasted since the fire. The flames that I had caused, destroying everything I had held dear. The music, the magic, and the love. Opera Populaire still stood but it was nothing but a shell housing metal frames that once were numerous velvet chairs…statues…the stage. Oh, the stage! The stage was my battleground bringing triumph and my crippling defeat. I ran my fingers through my hair continuing to stare at the shadowy thing in my hand. _

_Throwing down the mask from my perch upon the wind-worn statue, I yelled in anger. Anger at Andre and Firmin. Anger at Raoul. Anger at Christine…no…not Christine…she had just been a child. The others had convinced her…seduced her. I clutched my hair angrily squeezing my eyes shut and clenching my teeth. It was all so painful that I wished to leap off the roof of the opera and in to the cold arms of death…a thump. A heavy dull thump. I released my hair from my grip and looked up. A girl…her hair pulled back as a man's. She wore odd pants and a shirt like a man. I frowned. What manner of woman would dress like this? Curious, I hesitantly stepped down from between the wings of the pegasus and causiously approached her side, the mask forgotten. I kneeled down to examine her. She was unconscious and when I lifted her head to see her face, my fingers came back bloody. It was at this point that I picked her up. She needed to be helped. There was no doubt about that. The girl stirred, opening her eyes a bit. She seemed to gaze beyond, dizzily. _

"No." _She moaned turning her face away from me. _" It…my…no." _After spouting this nonsense, she weakly reached out as if to grasp something. I followed her gaze…a package covered in brown paper. I walked over then carefully cradling the girl; I managed to snatch up the package. Her hand followed it the entire time, never taking her focus off of it. When it finally came to rest in her lap, she placed the hand that had followed on it and smiled weakly. After that her eyelids fluttered, her face contorted with pain and she lost conciousness._

_All the way down the to sewer of my home (in a literal sense of course) I wondered. How had she gotten up there? I had seemed like she had fallen but none of the nearby buildings were high enough to jump from, land on the opera house, and sustain this girl's kind of damage. It was simply impossible. Also, what could be in the package that was so important that she would risk her life for it? Love? Possibly. Money? Unlikely. Power? Definitely no. I reached my home and stared for the bed, which rested in the spot the bed meant for Christine and I had laid (destroyed during a moment of anger). I gently placed her in the bed, slipping off what appeared to be her shoes…I could ask my questions when the girl was awake. As I stood I noticed the blood on the front of my shirt from the girl's arm…Then again in this condition it was questionable whether she would live or not. I frowned, my jaw set. I wasn't about to let her die. I now had an opportunity for companionship, an outlet for my grief, and I wasn't about to pass it up…I had found my "Christine"._

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Important fact: Italic means its in French. I had to put the language barrier in their otherwise it wouldn't be that good of a story. Please review!


	3. Am I dreaming?

Disclaimer: I don't own "THE Phantom of the Opera" but I do own a DVD of it!

Guess what folks! Turns out those stomach pains were apendict…apenti…:-P my appendix was screwed up. So now I'm out of surgery (in a bit of pain) but everything went well that I shouldn't be complaining. Especially since my health-freak mom felt sorry 4 me and got me (caramel) ice cream! WooHoo! . I'm sad to say that soon almost daily updates will be coming to an end since I'm going back to school when I'm relatively better…Boohoo. wipes a tear…Now for good news! I got The Phantom of the Opera DVD yesterday! YAHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Can you tell I'm happy?    . In other news, Bianca (that's my non de plume aka pen name) has a theory about the Phantom. I think that in the movie that phantom drugged Christine. How else would she see all that stuff during the "phantom of the Opera" song and act so funny? I think he got it in her system by putting it on the roses so when she pricked herself she'd get drugged. Autumn (the girl in the story) really helps to present this theory in this chapter. Voila!

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Pain…everywhere...It burned the most in my arm…Why?...I opened my eyes. It hurt…only shapes …blurs of color…I looked to my side carefully turning my head. Ow…A figure…bent over my arm…the hurting one…movement…words…it was a man's voice…deep and rich...Dad?...I wanted to sit up…to look around… I moved my arms…slowly…carefully…Rough hands gently held my shoulders down. I struggled my arms and body protesting. The pain grew…I sank back down... There was no point…not now… The hands released their grip and disappeared… My head still hurt… I raised a hand to message my temples…still pain…My hand moved back beside me by…I don't know…I don't care…My head was raised... more words...The rim of a cup placed on my lips…I didn't realize how thirsty I was…The drink was warm and tasted sweet…almost nauseatingly…I emptied the cup… my head gingerly lowered…The colors swirled… my head swirled… the pain began to fade… I opened my eyes…so heavy…so slow…I smiled…I had no other way to say thanks…I surrendered to the warm, soft dark…sleep.

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Yes. I know my chapters are very short but they stop good stopping places. Don't worry they'll get longer as the story goes on. Be sure to check out "Forgotten Memories". My Hellboy fan fiction coming soon to your local Fan Fiction site...uh…I hope tomorrow! 

BTW: Kudos to my #1 (and only) fan! Way 2 go octopus1738! Woot! (I have no earthly idea what "woot" means) In thelocallyfamous words of my friend Sparky: "Your motivational words...uh...motivated me!"


	4. The Wakening

Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom of the Opera or the Wizard of Oz or Eeyore

The vote is in and the winner is MEG! Woot! With only one vote from octopus1738! You go girl! Odd gals rule the world! Woot! In other news singing Schoooools out for sum-ma! Yahoo! So as I promised I'm back in action! As a bonus the story's longer! Woot! Enjoy!

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_The child sank back into a drug-induced sleep, the smile lingering momentarily before melting away… I sighed, relieved, and return to my work. I almost had removed the bullet using a pair of makeshift pincers I had fashioned out of a dense wood… finally the bullet relented and I brought it out into the light. The metal glinted silver in the candlelight…strange…I had always thought bullets were a bit bigger…the metal seemed wrong…I shook my head to rid myself of the suspicion and sleep. Later, I reminded myself. Now for the head wound...I lifted a candle to better see the girl. Earlier I had released the mass of thick mahogany curls from the hair tie to reach the injury. Now they lay like a fan on the pillow. I moved to a better angle…Pulling away the cloths, I checked to see if the bleeding had stopped. Seeing it had, I placed a fresh boiled cloth_1_ on the wound then wrapped a long strip around her head. I surveyed my handiwork brushing a curl aside…I had seen kindness in her warm brown eyes. Would she show the same compassion for me as Christine had shown for that short time before she had left me? Would she abandon me for the cruel world of light?...I would have to wait and see._

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I heard…music. Not the kind that makes you want to rock out on your bed…soft, classical music…Oh no! Dad must be on his "teen genius" kick again! Dangit! He promised he'd stop…Funny. I don't remember him driving me home… I groaned. My head throbbing dully…I rolled over…

"Yeowch!" I twitched, twisting my body, and the pain and pressure released my head. "Dammit. That hurt."… I opened my eyes slowly because of the lingering pain…stone spikes loomed down…they were whaddaya call em'…stalactites. I sat up making my head spin…when I felt better I gazed around the room. A black translucent material separated this room from the next…Some of the furniture was pretty nice. The chair next to a nearby wooden table looked old and expensive…antique-ish. Some of the other pieces were so ordinary in comparison…poor. Like the bed I sat up in. Nothin but a simple pallet with legs…Hm. The last time something like this happened I was four so the most I can remember is Dad telling me we were playin "hide n go seek" for a while…that was right after mom disappeared. I shook my head. No. Don't think about it…Footsteps.

"Dad?" I called out but no answer came. "Dad?" A dark haired refined lookin man rounded a corner…Either it was Halloween or I had lost Toto. The man had his hair slicked back and wore some kind of white aristocratic shirt, black pants, and weird mask…It looked broken because it covered only half his face. A warm smile lay on his lips.

"_Ah! You're awake!_" I stared blankly. What the heck had he said? I couldn't understand him at all.

"_You must be hungry. I'll get you something to eat_." Then the man left…I'm definitely not in Kansas anymore2…Okay…now what?... I struggled out from under the sheets slowly so nausea didn't hit me…Sitting up I stared at the floor. At least this guy didn't try to undress me. I still wore my jeans and my "Eeyore" shirt. Slowly I stood up…dizzy…I plopped back on the bed. Ugh. I felt like I was gonna hurl. I bent over, my head between my legs…That guy walked in again. When he saw me sittin ,my head hanging down, I think he freaked out. He knelt down and placed a hand to my forehead to see if I was hot. He then pressed down my shoulders back onto the cot, forcing me to lie down. I didn't struggle. He's just trying to help…I hope. After that he started fiddling with the bandage on my arm…the half healed hole where the bullet had hit…the gun…the weird Irish dude…Dad1 I cringed. No! Don't think about it! I tried to bury my distress but it just built up making my whole body quiver as the incident rushed back carrying a deluge of questions. The jump. Where was I now? Dad. Was he alright…Alive? The package. THE PACKAGE! I shot up making my head spin again. Curling up, I clutched my hair to cover the dizziness. Where was the package? Did I drop it? Did the Irish man get it? Where was it? Frantically I tried to make the man beside me understand.

"The package!" I exclaimed "The brown covered thing I had!" My whole body shook with restrained emotion as I tried to keep calm. "Where! Please!" His face just expressed disbelief…I tried to pantomime with my hands but they…they shook so badly. Soon it got to the point where I couldn't take it. I covered my head, burying my face in my knees as silent tears poured down my face…I promised…the last thing…the last and I screwed up…The bed shook slightly…I peered over my knees, my red eyes the only thing peeking out. The Package! I snatched it up clutching it to my chest. I turned to face the man…His face had…darkened…his expression angry…or frustrated. His eyes seemed to burn with loathing…Did I make him angry somehow? Did he think I was spoiled for crying? A frightful thought leapt into my mind...Did this guy work for the Irish guy? Once again I buried my emotions and looked away. Silence resounded in the room…The man cleared his throat

"_There's food there_." It was the last thing he said before his footsteps faded away…There I sat, holding the last physical remnant I had of my father…my stomach growled as a tantalizing smell wafted past my nose…I scanned the room and found a wooden tray holding a bowl of soup and a hunk of bread…maybe…I mean there's always a possibility…I shouldn't jump to conclusion…you never know.

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1.I did a little research and found out they knew they could boil things to get rid of the germs also I'm assuming the bullets back then were a bit bigger and cruder so that's why Eric goes off on the thing with the strangeness of the bullet. 

2. No. She is not Kansas

In answer to Lady Lefty, this chapter is where all the descriptions occur because in the first chapter Autumn can't exactly describe herself. That would be conceited. Also in the 2nd chapter it was too dark for Eric to see her well so he couldn't describe her then. That's why this chapter is where it all happens. That reminds me! I thought Autumn was a bit of a Mary Sue (that's OC lingo for a perfect character) and i hate characters like that so her big flaw is that she covers it up whenever she's distressed, as seen in this chapter. Unfortunately the emotions will build up until she has a melt down also seen in this chapter. Before she melts down she'll start shaking. It's weird but thats what we love about people! ( the wierdness not the shaking)

I'm sorry that this isn't my best work yet but I promise the next few will be better. Just be sure to keep reviewing so I can improve. Until next time, WOOT! Bianca out!


	5. Why the Caged Bird Sings

Disclaimer: I don't own the Phantom of the Opera.

Sorry I've made you wait so long. My goal was to get this done by Sunday but…oh well. I guess one day off isn't too bad especially since my creativeness was caput Saturday and Sunday was really busy. (My mom made me help her recarpet the sunroom :-P which includes moving the furniture. Double :-P) Anyhoo… Hope you enjoy it and…read on! Woot! BTW I almost forgot. I now have red streaks in my hair. I got them done with Sparky. (In your face Sparky! See? At least I was nice enough to mention you when you didn't the same for me! –Sticks out tongue-). Please review!

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_Two days had passed since the girl had awakened. She was recovering wonderfully though she still clutched her head whenever she tried to stand. Nonetheless the day she could leave was all too far away. Having her here reminded me too much of Christine even asleep as she was now. Softly I tapped out the Mozart I had heard my beloved sing so many times. I could almost hear Christine's voice dancing in the air; rising and falling as it twirled…I stopped. Now I remember why it has been so long since I've played the piece. Now I know…I stood, my hands clutched into fists beside me, my heart pounding in my ears. In a sudden rush of fury I shoved the ornate chair aside. It toppled down the stairs crashing into the candelabras (1) and cracking the already broken mirrors. I turned and swept the sheets of music off the stand. I then stormed after the chair to wreak even more havoc upon it…a flash of color caught my eye…the pictures…of Christine (2) …Yelling I ripped them from the wall, tearing and shredding them to pieces. I then carried the paper to the water's edge and tossed them into the air…The bits of color drifted slowly…onto…the water…I collapsed onto the floor weeping silently…Oh Christine…Why did you leave me...? The rasp of paper against stone…I should pick up the music…before the water takes that away as well…Slowly I stood, my head hung. The sound continued, only louder…a tapping noise…I turned slightly gazing up…she glanced up at me as well, momentarily looking away from the stack of music in her hands. The tapping had been her straightening the pile against the stone floor…Her eyes were filled with fear, pity,…and hope. Hope of my acceptance which they seemed to beg for. She lowered her head with the air of a humble slave and returned to her work.

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Don't be such a scaredy cat. I scolded myself. He's just some dressed up weirdo with a mask…I remembered watching him nearly toss the enormous chair…Okay. A really strong weirdo but still human just the same. He started up the steps. Closer and closer and closer. I prayed he wasn't still angry. Closer and closer…he knelt down across from me scooping up papers as I was. I loosened my grip on the papers in my hand. My hand was shaking a little. This has just been too much. First my dad… I shook my head to get rid of the thought. Great. I don't need this. Any of this. Not now...I have to find out what's going on, where I am. I slipped my hand under another sheet. Unconcerned my eyes flicked over it, but did a double-take…I know this. Just last voice practice my teacher wanted to see if I was as good at French as I was at Italian. (I was) Voice was the only on of dad's "genius teen" lessons I enjoyed. (Not that I let him know) Ecstatic, I motioned to the man.

"I know this! I know this!" I nearly hollered, beaming. He seemed confused, tilting his head a bit to one side. I pointed to my chest, then my temple, then to the page.

"I. Know. This." I said again. He looked at me oddly. Like a teacher who's trying to tell if you're lying or not. Carefully he slipped the sheet from my hands.

"_La Solitaire_ (3)," He muttered, reading off the title. I nodded my head. Yes! Yes! Finally something familiar! He gave me that look again before slowly nodding.

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_Again the young girl beamed up at me, so full of youthful light. With renewed energy she began gathering the sheets. Once we had organized then, I retrieved the chair from where it had been thrown. As I was setting it down, I heard the girl moan quietly behind me. She remained sitting on the floor but she had a hand on her head, messaging her temple. She must not be fully recovered from her head injury. I walked over and offered my hand. Flashing another bright smile, she shakily pulled herself up. She stumbled then steadied herself. At last we could begin._

_**Ah, haughty youth, o thou slayer of wild deer,**_

_**Thou pale horseman pale, of the dark, tender eye,**_

_**I would that thou on thy wing-footed charger**_

_**Wouldst bear me up to love's heav'n on high.**_

_She had quite proficient talent. True, she made mistakes such as a strained high note, running out of air, a quaver, or a slight (ever so slight) flat note. What impressed me though is the fact that she recognized most mistakes. I knew this for every time she bungled something she would place a hand on her chest just below her throat as if to steady her voice._

_**Oft have I in the night, all lonely sitting,**_

_**Shed many a tear, and stretched my arms to thee;**_

_**But all in vain! I caught at shadows flitting,**_

_**Thou heard'st no sob, my tears thou didst not see.**_

_She faltered and stopped, smiling sheepishly. I stopped as well._

_"Very good," I said, clapping a bit. "Forgive me if I've been rude these past few days. I thought you were unable to speak French." The girl's face fell as her gaze shifted to the floor._

_"_Sorry,_" she replied. "_I don't know what yer saying._" She obviously still didn't understand me, but she could sing…I don't know which angel sent her to me but I could never abuse an opportunity like this one. I could train her. I could again rise into power through her voice. I could teach her…but first things first. I pressed a hand to my chest._

_"Erik." At first the girl showed no response but then she repeated the gesture, smiling._

_"_Autumn._" Teacher and student. Erik and Autumn (4). May our future unfold… Together.

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1. Those are big sticks like one of those that hold up the bulb on a lamp except instead of a bulb and cover…thing…there's a candle. I had to ask my dad about this one.

2. If you haven't seen the deleted scene in the Phantom of the Opera (it's another song that Erik sings. It's soooo sweet. It's to the tune of "Learn to be Lonely". SEE IT!) then you'll have no idea what I'm talking about. Even if the movie hadn't shown it I probably would have mentioned some kind of picture/sculpture/artwork that the Phantom did. He's just too creative to not do some kind of likeness of Christine. Anyhoo I knew that would cause a problem with Erik and Autumn's relationship so I had to get rid of it. Autumn's just too curious to not notice anything like that.

3. I was lookin at my voice teacher's collection of music and I saw a book of French songs. We were working on something else so I didn't get to sing the song. (Boohoo) The guy who wrote this piece (Camille Saint-Saëns) was born a little late to be believable but the song was so appropriate (and in French) that I just had to put it in here. In English, "La Solitaire" means the solitude. Isn't that cool?

4. The names work together really well like Sonny and Cher and…well that's all I can think of, but you know what I mean

**AND NOW (**drum roll please)-pause for effect**-…THE E-MAIL ANSWERS!**

I'm answering e-mails now. Sparky does the same thing and I decided to follow suit.

**Octopus1738**: Thanks for the FYI but like I said in an earlier chapter it was just a theory. Also I'm planning on reading the book, but first my mom and I have to go the library. Heehee! Every time we've tried so far it's been closed:-P Thanks anyways!

**Lady Lefty:** Thanks for the compliment and I'm glad I cleared some stuff up for you! Keep reading!

**countriebabe214**: HEY GIRL! WOOT! I've missed you too! The reason I haven't been showing up…well the first time (ya know when I was supposed to do the lesson) was because a voice recital snuck up on me so I couldn't go. :-( Boohoo. The other times have been because Jordan's mad at me and it's kinda hard to avoid her in small group plus she would be snappin at me because of it. Tell everyone I said "Woot!" (Except for Jordan). Hope to hear from you again!


	6. Neko's chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom of the Opera and neither does Neko…I liked calling her Sparky better.

This chapter was done by my bestest friend, SPARKY…but now she's NEKO. (It rhymes with gecko) This chapter is unofficial but its fun. One last thing before I let you read: **_I DIDN'T WRITE THIS!_** Just for those people who don't read this area. Enjoy!

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I woke up to the sound of music playing. It was a sweet tune. As I sat up, I saw the man at his piano. I listened to the music some more and realized the tune was familiar. I knew this song. I didn't know how, but I knew 

"Hey, I know this song," I tried telling him. He didn't look at me. I walked over to the piano and came up with another way of telling him- singing.

"**Think of me**

**Think of me fondly**

**When we've said good-bye**

**Remember me**

**Once in a while**

**Please promise me you'll try**

**When you find**

**That once again you long**

**To take your heart back and be free**

**If you ever find a moment**

**Spare a thought for me."

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**

_I was surprised she knows the song. She was singing in her language, but it was the same tune. Her voice was so angelic- I almost in astonishment. But eager to hear more of her voice, I continued playing.

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_

Since he didn't stop me, I continued singing.

"**We never said**

**Our love was evergreen**

**Or as unchanging as the sea**

**But if you can remember**

**Stop and think of me."**

As I went along, I found my voice became louder and stronger. I was no longer shy – I had found my comfort zone

"**Think of all the things we've shared and seen**

**Don't think about the way things might have been**

**Think of me**

**Think of me waking**

**Silent and resigned**

**Imagine me**

**Trying to hard**

**To put you from my mind**

**Recall those days**

**Look back on all those times**

**Think of the things we'll never do**

**There will never be a day when**

**I won't think of you."**

I stopped, closing my eyes, and listened to the musical interlude. I didn't know why I was singing for this stranger, but it felt nice. I started singing again.

"**Flowers fade**

**The fruits of summer fade**

**They have their seasons so do we**

**But please promise me that sometimes**

**You will think-**

**Of-----me."**

I finished, please that I had made the high note. The man stopped playing and turned around, smiling at me

"_Brava! Brava!"_ He said, clapping. I found myself beaming- I understood that.

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Neko wrote up this chapter a little while ago. I thought it was cute so...Here it is! Neko's my bestest friend in the whooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooole world. Teehee! 


	7. Sorry

Sorry guys! Nothing today. I had a really crappy and crowded week (I got practically no sleep) plus there are a lot of problems popping up in this chapter and I need to get the book to solve them…all the copies were gone from the library. :-P –sighs- I swear! The library had nothing! Nothing by Sir Arthur Connan Doyle! Nothing by Gaston Leroux! NOTHING! Now I have to buy it…Thank the Lord for and overnight delivery. So all I have to do is buy it and I'll try to get something up next week. Thanks!

BTW! Thanks for all the e-mails!

**Ridel**: Woot! New Reviewer! I'm glad you like it! I have one question. What did you mean by "a little on the cutisy side"? I'd like to know, please. Constructive criticism is great! BTW, congrats on figuring out the secret of the package. It took some of my friends to figure out what was going on. Kudos for doing it so fast! Oh and don't worry. The package will come up next chapter. It's a given.

**Madame Opera Ghost**: Woot! Another New Reviewer! Woot! I plan on writing more just as long as you guys keep reading!

**Lady Lefty**: I forwarded your review to my friend. She'll get it in about a week when she comes back from vacation. One thing I'd like to say is that our writing styles are a bit similar… when we're writing from the same perspective. Most of the time she does third-person and I've found I enjoy writing in first, so she was copying my style to match the rest of my story. Another thing: I enjoyed putting all the "tying in the music" stuff cause I get to show off what I know about music. Heehee. I can be a little full of myself sometimes, but who isn't?

**Octopus1738**: Last but not least is my ever-faithful numba 1 fan! Woot! I'm gonna keep this story going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going…


	8. Sorry again :

Sorry again! I seriously doubt that I'm going to get the story up this Sunday. (The beginning of the chapter is kinda crappy.) This is why I need your help. I've found an online version of the book but I need to know what chapter talks about Eric and his inventions cause Autumn and Eric are going topside but the movie layout (for the stairs) isn't very…convenient. Thanks! I think you'll enjoy this chapter!

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While I'm here I'm going to make corrections

1. In chapter 3 at the very beginning of my ending comments (wow! That's an oxymoron) I meant to say "Yes. I know my chapters are very short but they stop at good stopping places"

2. "_Later, I reminded myself."_( Chpt 4, 1st para.) He's thinking the word later, not reminding himself later. I probably should have put "later" in quotations.

3. "the weird Irish dude…Dad1 I cringed" (Chpt. 4, Para 6) The 1 is supposed to be an !.

4. "2. No. She is not Kansas" (Chpt 4, 2nd comment)…No this. True, she isn't Kansas, but I meant to say "She is not **from** Kansas". Just wanted to clear that up.

5. "_I turned slightly gazing up"_ (Chpt. 5 1st para.) There should be a comma between "slightly" and "gazing"


	9. A Day in the Life

Disclaimer: I don't own the Phantom of the Opera but I own Autumn

EEEEK! POOR NEKO! She had her whooooooooooooooooooooooooooole story deleted! How cruel is that! All 20 chapters! How corrupt is that! Now I'm angry with the fanfiction people! –To the fanfiction people- YOU WILL GET YOURS! –Sticks out tongue-

Meanwhile…I HAVE THE PHANTOM BOOK! WOOT! I've read the majority of the book and I had a blast! (You were right, Octopus1738. It is tricky to understand. I never did understand what the red thing the Persian held was.) I'm combining the movie layout of the theater with the book layout of the cellars. I don't know what I'll do for Erik's home. I'll do a little combining there too but I'll mess with it when I need to. One thing I'm absolutely standing solid on is the movie appearance of the Phantom. Gerard Butler is HOTT! I have respect for any guy that sings and boy did he sing! Anyhoo! Here's the long awaited chapter. Enjoy and please review!

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Beaming, I stepped out to where Erik could see me.

"_Voila!_" I announced with a flourish of my arms. "_Bon?_" Good? He turned and a small amused smile twinkled on his lips.

"_Magnifique_," He replied. "_Bon_." I gave him a big Cheshire cat grin then pranced away to the broken mirrors so I could see myself better. I spun around in front of them. Several days ago, about a day after he started teaching me French (it may be French. I noticed It had a "frenchie" sound to it when I really thought about it), I had expressed to Erik that I needed some clothes. He seemed to agree and had given me two pairs of pants and three shirts then adjusted them to fit my body. On top of that I had cleaned myself up. I felt great with the new (well…semi-new) clothes and my damp hair pulled back.

"_Autumn_!" I turned and leapt over to where Erik had called from. I'm guessing it was his studio 'cause he had a bunch of artsy stuff in there. Lately he wasn't letting me in. No idea why but as soon as I stepped in I discovered the reason. Seeing the miniature stage, I gasped.

" How cute!" I exclaimed and rushed over to it. Careful not to touch it, I explored every nook and cranny as I had the rooms of Erik's home when I had felt better. I turned back to Erik and gave him another Cheshire cat grin. He smiled too, his hands behind his back…I noticed this and motioned to ask why. He beamed even more, revealing a tiny auburn-haired doll made of wax (I think). She had on an elegant dress that reminded me of a forest with its greens, gold, oranges and reds. I pointed at my chest

"_Me_?" I asked. Me? He nodded and I squealed then quickly covered my mouth to stifle the sound. I giggled at myself peering up at Erik. He grinned all the more (1).

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_Autumn seemed utterly delighted by the figurine I had made of her. I knelt down and placed the statuette on the stage close to the "audience"._

"_Downstage," I said, pointing at the figurine. Autumn nodded and repeated the word. We continued the same pattern with upstage, stage left, and stage right. I had no doubts that she would need these words later on. Once again I moved the figurine down stage…the ring of an electric bell. I quickly turned at the sound. Could it be? My heart leapt. Could it really be? Already?_

"Erik?_" I turned back to Autumn. She gazed up at me expectantly._

"_Downstage," She pressed, a bit impatiently…I had forgotten about the lesson. I would need to end it early today. I nodded in answer.

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_

Something was up with Erik. After the ringing he seemed kinda distracted. I wanted to keep going so I brushed off the concern that would of popped up, but when I caught his attention, he wanted to stop!

"_I'm leaving for a short time_," he explained while motioning to himself then pointing out over the water. Was he leaving? Could I go too! I pointed at him then over the water. He nodded. I then pointed to myself before pointing over the water again. His face grew stern

"_NO!_" he ordered. (2) His voice echoed off the stone walls. I inhaled to soothe my rising fury then met his gaze just as solidly.

"_Oui_!" I insisted, my hand the only thing quavering. Yes!

"_No,_"he said again before pointing at me then the floor. My temper flared but I hid it away. No way am I staying here!

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_I sighed. She was a stubborn child. If only I could make her understand why. I gazed out across the water. Even then I most likely wouldn't tell her. What if she wanted to leave? I would be left alone once again. I couldn't let her go but…again I stated down into her blazing brown eyes…Another thought came to mind…What if she is only curious? She's certainly shown that attribute. There's still that chance…I lifted a finger._

" _One condition," I ordered. The girl's brow raised and her eyes twinkled betraying her stern appearance. I pointed to her_

"_You," I began before tapping my ear then my chest. "Will listen to me." She nodded a smile forming on her lips.

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_

I ran off to grab my shoes but when I came back Erik was untying a gondola-like boat. As we traveled on the water, I gazed at the intricate decorations on the wall (3). Did Erik do these? He's got the talent for it. I shook my head. Nah. Carving the rock like this probably took years…centuries. I turned looking up at Erik. Then again who knows how long he's been down here. A vague feeling of déjà vu swept over me but I ignored it. Erik glancing down noticed me staring so I flashed him another award-winning grin. A smile twitched on his lips but he quickly turned his attention back on his steering. I also turned away as the smile faded from my lips.

In almost no time we were docked. Erik gave me a concerned look as I bounded from the boat. I immediately sprinted to the staircase . Curious how high it went I eagerly peered up…What I saw made me swallow. Hard…Staring up at the seemingly infinite stairs I could only say one word.

"Crap!"

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1. Does this make sense?

2. "No" in French is the same as "no" in English.

3. Movie form! I liked the boat from the movie so I put that in too.

Writing this chapter I've learned many things…for instance: there are only three words for "grin" on my computer's thesaurus. I've also learned there are a bunch of words for "figurine". What's up with that?

**E-mail answers**

**Madameoperaghost:**I'm continuing! Oh! i do have one thing to say! I have a friend named Hannah. She's like a human dictionary. She NEVER makes spelling mistakes. It's actually kinda funny!

**Ridel:** You know how i said the package would be showing up in this chapter...well i lied. Sorry but i CAN promise that it is coming up VERY soon. Either the next chapter or the one after that...most likely the next chapter.Anyhoo, about people not knowing what's in the package. It pretty much IS a given but some people want it stated to them i guess. just read some of the reviews to see what i mean. BTW Thanks for clearing that up.

**Darksecretlove:**Woot! New reviewer.Thanks for the compliments and don't worry about the package it'll show up...eventually.

**octopus1738:**Thanks for the help. I haven't gotten to the part where they have to pick the animal figurine, but right now they're in the torture chamberwhen it's getting hot. The beginning of the book is kinda slow isn't it? I had some trouble getting into it at first. The ending is great though!


	10. The Rise of the Ghost

Disclaimer: I don't own The Phantom of the Opera but Autumn is mine.

Check it out! Not only did I break my writer's block, but I got the story posted early too! Woot! My life's been kinda rough lately with piano lessons and all but I've managed to keep up the story. (Ok sure there was big chunk when I didn't write anything but still) I've got some bad news though. I'm going to be gone from July 2-9. I don't know whether I'll post a story before then so I'm telling you now. In other news, Neko is out of town (Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! I miss her!) and since I'm leaving before she gets back I won't get to see her until I get back! I miss her sooooooo much! Anyhoo, enjoy the story. I'm working on the mood/tone so tell me what you think. Thanks and read on!

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_Once again the red-faced Autumn began to lag behind on the staircase and once again I made a motion to carry her. The stubborn girl acted the same way she had before, still refusing my help. Every time I moved to pick her up, she would push me away quickening her pace. At the end of the five-story climb she was breathless and flushed. I motioned for her to stay in the cellar so I could see to my business.

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_

I happily plopped down when Erik told me to stay. That was just fine with me. He set down the little lantern he had brought up with him and left me to catch my breath. As time passed my chest heaved less and my face had cooled…a scuttle in the darkness and my heart leapt in my chest. I remembered the lantern, which sat nearby, and scrambled for it. When the handle lay in my hand, I stood up quickly, swinging the light around to frighten away the shadows…another scuttle… I whipped around and the light fell on a pitch-black rat that seemed to be part of the darkness. Startled and disgusted I let out a cry of distress as I jumped back, tripping over a loose board. I lost my balance and tumbled back onto a weak material, ripping it. For a while I coughed and waved away the dust that floated in the air making my eyes water. Finally my vision (and lungs) cleared and I glanced around for the lantern. It lay unbroken (thankfully) on the floor, illuminating a painted forest. In an effort to pull myself up I grasped at the material I had fallen though but ended up ripping off another piece. Feeling the rippling paint strokes, my curiosity spiked. After several vain attempts at escape, I eventually crawled out of the canvas cave I had made, reaching for the lantern. Gently I stroked the branch of a painted tree. Was this some kind of art museum? Black market? Raising the lantern some I followed the road of painted cloth with my eyes till I spotted a large roll of it…What is this place? I stood up holding my lantern even higher. In the weak light I could make out shapes. Rolls of cloth, canvas sets, props…I'm in a theater…or at least the basement. Now Erik's weird clothes and fancy furniture made sense. They were costumes and props. I chuckled to myself as large weight lifted from my mind. What had I been worried about this whole time? Alien abduction? Time travel? I had been so stupid! I spotted another staircase leading up. Full of enthusiasm I dashed over to it…then stopped. Erik had told me to stay here. He's been so kind and considerate to me, but…I looked around at the dusty darkness. I don't want to wait here. (1) I'll bet he wouldn't mind me looking around just as long as I didn't leave the basement. I smiled mischievously as I jogged up the few steps. He never said exactly where "here" was anyways.

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_From a secret compartment within the wall, I watched the two intruders strut around the entrance hall. It had obviously been a good idea moving the "siren trigger" to the entrance. (2)The shorter one, a chubby little man with a fluffy brown hair surrounding his mouth and a bowler hat on his head (3) had piggy features and clothes that radiated a sense of affluence while his rosy cheeks gave him a cheerful yet comical appearance. The taller, a slim clean-shaven young man with curly blonde hair had the appearance of a nervous crane as he fidgeted, constantly circling the piggish man and squawking at him hectically. _

_"After the fire," the crane-like man pressed acting as a teacher would. "M. Firmin and Andre were left broke and slightly mentally unstable (or so the story goes) and so the Opera house was abandoned." Evidently ignoring him, the piggy man scanned his surroundings, leaning on his cane._

_"Yes yes yes," He replied absent-mindedly " When did you say your acquaintance would be meeting us?" The younger man sighed at the futility of his speech._

_"Half-past nine, misour," The crane-like man answered impatiently. "If you would just listen to me, M. Leroux! Didn't you hear me?" Leroux waved a plump hand at the young man without turning to face him._

_"Of course, of course, dear boy." He prattled. "You need to learn respect for your elders and speak when spoken to. And another matter! Speak up! You're as quiet as the dust in here!" His voice was as cheery as his expression and made him appear even more eccentric._

_"They were entirely crazy, M. Leroux!" The young man insisted. " If you ask my opinion only someone as daft as the former managers would buy this place!" Leroux raised his cane and rapped the youngster on his head._

_" In that case," He replied. " It's a good thing a didn't ask for your opinion then. Isn't it?" He tapped the young man on the head again then waddled toward the approaching figure, a young woman. The young lady wore clothes that expressed adequate living conditions and walked as graceful as a doe. Her sunshine hair was braided into a rope that hung down her back. Something in her stride echoed in my memory. Leroux hung his cane on his arm and clasped his large hands around one of hers shaking it energetically._

_"It's wonderful to meet you, Madame Giry! Now. I'm a very busy man…" He said in what appeared to be a mock seriousness. "So what I want is an overview of the opera house." He then turned and thrust the end of his cane toward the crane-like man. "All this lad knows is some garbage about the previous owners and keeps repeating the same thing over and over. All he needs are wings and he could be a parrot." The young man's cheeks flushed while the young woman hid her amusement behind a dainty hand._

_"I'm sure, misour, but I'm not Madame Giry. She's sick and unable to come," She explained. ' I'm Meg Giry, her daughter." Ah! That's why her stride was so familiar! This was little Meg, my songbird's confidante and friend. My heart twisted at the thought of my dear Christine but I continued to watch the scene before me. Again Leroux shook her hand vigorously._

_"I'm very very please to meet you, M. Giry," He announced. " Now. Let's begin the tour." M. Leroux then began dragging young Giry up the once elegant staircase. The young man jogged slightly to catch up to them, running to Giry's side to whisper in her ear. After a brief exchange of words, M. Giry nodded in agreement before turning her attention to Leroux._

_"Why don't we visit one of the boxes first?" The young woman insisted sweetly. "There's a wonderful view of the entire theater from there." After that they turned a corner passing from my sight. I left my hiding place…I had a feeling I knew what they were planning. Unfortunately if I wished to achieve anything, I would need M. Giry by my side. Fortunately for me that young man wanted to convince M. Leroux to not buy the opera house. I smirked at the idiocy of it all. If one wants to protect others from ghost, it's foolish to show them my favorite haunt._

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1.She's still kinda young and an only child therefore she's still kinda self-centered but she's only like…11 or 12. I don't know. I haven't really decided on an age yet but I guess that'll work. 

2. If you haven't read the story that'll make no sense.

3. Did they have bowler hats back then?

**Review answers**

**Lady Lefty-** Sorry. I have trouble with that sort of thing. Not putting in the detail but being careful not to overdo it. Plus that chapter was tricky for me. I don't know why. I guess i wasn't in the zone or something like that. Thanks for telling me.

**Madameoperaghost- **I'm glad you enjoyed it!

**Ridel**- thanks for bringing that to my attention. I've fixed it.What stuff didn't you understand? If it's not a revealing thing i'll explain it to you.Oh! another thing. The bag **will** be in the next chapter. Promise!

**Octopus1738-**Je suis content que vous l'avez apprécié si beaucoup de. J'ai traduit votre message sur un site de traducteur libre. Il a tourné hors très drôle mais il a compris l'idée principale. P.S.La revue très créative.


	11. The Truth Does Hurt

Disclaimer: I don't own the Phantom of the Opera but Autumn is mine.

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Wow! Two chapters in one week! I'm surprised…but this isn't my favorite chapter. I feel that lately my writing isn't where it needs to be and I'm not talking about my formerly missing Hellboy notebook (yep. I finally found it! Woot! Woot! Woot! Woot! Woot! Woot! Woot! Woot! Woot! Woot! Woot! Woot! Woot! Woot! WOOT!) I have more good news: My friend Sparky is back! Woot! (No Neko's still gone. Remember I kept on getting her confused cause her nickname was Sparky and my webmaster's penname was Sparky and the character in the story she's putting on the web is named Sparky so Now she's Neko and the webmaster is still Sparky and so is the character and…Whew! Just to sum it up: My Webmaster, Sparky, is home.) Neko is still gone so everything isn't quite right in the world but it's close enough. Anyhoo, if you have any suggestions to make this story better don't hesitate to review. Thanks! BTW if you haven't read the book this chapter won't make much sense. (It's a good book! READ IT!) Enjoy!

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_"Box 5, this box, was known as the ghost's box," young Giry explained. "It got its name from the famous phantom of the opera that was said to have haunted this theater. There are several accounts when the ghost spoke the certain people, including my mother." M. Leroux turned from the view of the once grand theater, now a shadow of its former glory._

_"Your mother?" he asked. Giry nodded._

_"Yes. All the time," She replied. "She was in charge of this box and would give the ghost his program every performance." MM. Giry then fell silent letting the new information sink in. M. Leroux remained quiet for a short time then…_

_"Wonderful!" He exclaimed. "Genius!" Both MM. Giry and M. Lepew (1), as the crane-like man was called, stared in astonishment._

_"Outstanding!" He announced again. "I knew Opera Populaire had a wonderful reputation but I had no idea what made it so amazing! No wonder this opera house was so popular!" Inside the hollow marble, I grinned. It had been a good plan to bring M. Leroux to my box, using the tales of ghosts to scare him away from the investment. Fortunately for me, MM. Giry's plan had gone in the exact opposite direction it was meant to go. Now was the time for the ghost to speak once again. The was no doubt in my mind Madame Giry had spoke of our short meetings to her daughter but I could tell from MM. Giry's actions that she only viewed them as frightful legends…stories. Now was the time to make them real. Throwing my voice, I spoke softly in her ear._

_"Your mother was ever loyal to the ghost," I whispered "…but will you carry on her legacy?" The girl's eyes widened and she searched for the origin of the voice, my voice while the men, unaware of the presence among them, carried on their conversation, M. Lepew badgering M. Leroux who ignored him entirely. M. Giry glanced at the two men and backed away, out of the box but closer to the specter than she had yet been._

_"Who are you?" she murmured, careful to make sure her words weren't heard by M. Leroux or Lepew._

_"You know who," I answered. " I am the one who gave your friend her voice…the one who held her captive… the same one…who rewards his helpers handsomely. Do you remember your mother's tip?" Again she scanned the area then slowly nodded._

_"The reward will be the same for you," I began. "Perhaps more, but first…" I dangled the treat waiting for her reply. Her features softened._

_"I could buy the medicine for mother." She murmured to herself._

_"And more," I said. She glanced up momentarily at the men, one of which was red-faced as he lost his temper. The other continued to act indifferent. For a moment she remained silent and then…_

_"What are your requests?"

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_

Losing interest in the two pairs of boots (2) I had just found I tossed them as far as I could, seeing if I could hit the back wall…I didn't. Sighing I plopped down hugging my knees. This was becoming old very quickly. When was Eric getting back? I stood up and scanned the room once more holding the lantern high before climbing up the next set of stairs. On that floor there was again nothing but old sets and props. Boring. I scanned the room to see if there was anything interesting…and there was! On the far side of the room was yet another staircase but this one led to a door. Another basement or something else? Abruptly a weight fell on my chest. If it did lead to the actual theater I'd really be going against Eric's instructions… Should I? Again I glanced around at the drab darkness…Suddenly without thinking I rushed over and swung open the door (3)…As I did the faint smell of smoke rolled over me. I gaped at the dust and soot that lay everywhere. I then slid one foot over threshold and leaned out, clutching the sides of the doorframe. The room was vast and so…empty. Everything seemed to be burnt and covered with aged greasy charcoal. Even illuminated by the shafts of light falling through holes in the old roof, the darkness of it all loomed like a bad memory. The only sign of life were the few cobwebs that draped on what was left of the blackened fence-like barrier that marked the upper area, most of which had collapsed. Combined with the motes of dust in the air, it all gave the building a ghostly appearance. A bit frightened because of the eerie landscape and fear that Eric would return any minute I began to retreat back into the darkness…then I heard voices. Once again, my curiosity got the better of me and I peeked out of the half-closed door. 

"It looks as if most of the fire moved backstage," a sweet female voice sighed.

"I'm not surprised," stated another voice, a male's this time. "It seems to be mostly made of wood. Is that correct?" The question was answered with silence though I have no doubt the woman was nodding her head or something like that...Footsteps sounded just outside the door and I backed away, smothering a gasp. I glanced around quickly, hopping behind a wardrobe prop as the door opened. Light spilled in and my heart began to thump. I saw a man's fat shadow on the floor. The shadow's head twisted from one side to another then disappeared altogether it's owner plodded off. The however remained open…Cautiously I peered around the corner…What I saw made my heart stop. From my hiding place behind the wardrobe I could see the trio clear as day but…they wore the same kind of clothes as Eric…They're just here for a dress rehearsal, a play. Eric must be part of it. I tried to convince myself nothing was wrong but I just couldn't believe it… Why would they be rehearsing in an old abandoned theater? There's no way. My arms began to shake so I hugged myself, sliding down the wardrobe into a sitting position. Several stupid excuses ran through my mind but thing that kept popping up was the package…Maybe it had done something, altered something...or someone…like me. Maybe I'm going crazy. It was then I noticed the voices of the others had left…I noticed because a giant shadow appeared in the doorway while his footsteps tapped…closer and closer till…Eric loomed over me, a stern frown set on his face.

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(1) I've named the crane dude Pepe Lepew just for kicks! Woot! I may bring him up in later chapters just because of his nifty name. 

(2) In the book I read there was a footnote that Roul's and the Persian's boots were never found. I just HAD to smile maniacally. Now you know why they were never found. Bwahahahahahahaha…Its actually not that evil, is it? Oh well!

(3) I have no idea why she did it. I had her do it to get the story moving but she had no reason. It's just a random event…I may come back and redo this part. Who knows?

**E-mail Answers**

**Octopus1738: **Thanks for the spelling tip. I couldn't find how to spell (they only spell out the whole word once in the book) so i just winged it(Did i say that right? wunged it? wingged it? Oh well). Btw it was fun to write in another language, but it's kinda a pain to translate so please keep the french and another language besides English to a minimum.

**Ridel:** Ha! I told you i would mention it! Ha! HaHa! HaHaHa! Ha! In other new, I'm glad you're not confused anymore. It's not fun, but whenever it does happen (and it doesn't involve my story) just smile:-) If it does involve my story you can smile...then tell me why you're confused. :-) -singing- Just put on a hap-py faaaace.

**Lady Lefty:** I don't like to mess with reality too much either but one point i decided to make the owner of the Opera Populaire a funny little fat man (he's the comic relief) and later on i thought, "Hey! It'd be really fun if the owner later wrote the Phantom story...but i don't want to change who the original author was." After that i found a picture of Leroux and he fit the discription perfectly and they all lived happily ever after. Plus there was the fact that he lost his father's fortune gambling and drink (in less than a year) so i to play with a different reason than the drinking, etc, etc. Dang! This thing is long! Anyhoo, I have the same trouble turning the pictures in my head into words on the page. Someday they'll invent a machine that reads thoughts so we can play a movie of our thoughts instead of typing them! Yea! Ok. I'm done now.

In the next chapter, you're gonna see quite a bit of the package (told you again Ridel!) and a whole lot of Eric's bad parenting skills! Bwahahahaha! This'll probably be the last chapter before I leave for Cancun. I'll only be gone a week and will still have plenty of time to write with the airplane flight and all that. So for my parting words: Adios amigos! Hasta luego! Aiaiaiaiaiai!


	12. Chapter 12

I found the notebook but I can't write until I'm done reading Frankenstein ( 7 chapters left to go! Woot!). The thing is I never said anything about not posting so if all my wonderfully (and thankfully) patient reviewers don't mind a sudden and random stop in the chapter, I'll post the next chapter. Whaddaya think? In other news: UGH! STUPID IMAGINATION! I thought of a storyline for the book Frankestien. I may, to keep my sanity, randomly post a chapter of it. If I do and you hate it...oh well. :-P All this required reading is messing up my mind. In the famous words of Apu: "Thank you! Come again!" (disclaimer: I don't own anything related to the Simpsons)


	13. A Phantom's Fury

(Bianca slumped over a desk snoring) (Joe the squirrel comes in and bobs Bianca on the head with a rubber mallet then runs off) (Bianca wakes up) Huh? Wuh? Oh…oops…uh. Hi everybody! As u can see things have been kinda crazy since school started (muttering) stupid school (brightens) I really sorry I haven't done much and I'm sorry this blurb is so short. To put simply: School sucks. Period. So I hope u enjoy it even for all its shortness. I'm going to be updating rarely now that I have yet ANOTHER story to deal wiff. My mind is craziness. :-P The new story and pictures will be posted hopefully on deviant art with corresponding picts some point. My screen name is Lyrical2u. Lurv u guys! Enjoy!

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"Ow!" I yelped. "Stop it! You're hurting me!" I futilely protested against Eric's rough grip on my arm, his nails digging into my flesh. He dragged me through the basement. I fought against his hold but my shoes slid on the dusty floor making it nearly impossible to resist his strength. He turned and twisting my arms painfully and clutched my other arm pinning both to my sides. 

"_I asked of you one thing,_" He hissed in a cold, calm fury, his icy eyes freezing my will. "_One thing and you disobeyed. I will make certain that you will never defy me again._" I didn't understand a word of what he said but I could feel the fire in his voice. He then whirled me around to face an inky black hole in the floor. (1) Why didn't I see this before? I was here only minutes ago and the most interesting thing I had found were those boots.

Before I had time to wonder any longer, I felt his hand on my back, his grip on my arm release and the next thing I knew I was dropping into endless darkness.

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_I sighed and leaned against the cold stone wall as the red mist passed from my eyes. Had I been too harsh? No. She would be fine as long as I didn't turn the chamber on. (1)…and safe. Damn it all! I should have never let her com. She shouldn't be revealed. Not yet. Ever so slowly, I made my way down to the damp depths of my home. It was then I had realized just how tired I was. No wonder I had acted with such rash actions. Caught up with all the change I had hardly time to rest my head. There will be no need to worry about Autumn. Her punishment would suffice…at least…for now.

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_

(1) Behold ladies and gentlemen! The torture chamber! Ta-Da!

Yes, I know it sucks. I'll come back and fix it some millennia. Before you go berserk on me for the shortness. Remember: the shorter it is, the sooner I post. So PLEASE don't kill me. Tell me of my screw-ups! Thank you!

Review Replies!

I just want to thank everyone for being so patient and not killing me on sight. I'm going to TRY to be more regular but i'm afraid i can't promise anything yet. Thanx guys!


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